From: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com (buffyfic-digest) To: buffyfic-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: buffyfic-digest V2 #385 Reply-To: $SENDER Sender: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk buffyfic-digest Wednesday, December 2 1998 Volume 02 : Number 385 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Hopeless Hope (5/6) BUFFYFIC: Hopeless Hope (6/6) BUFFYFIC: Twilight - (7/?) See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 2 Dec 1998 15:42:13 EST From: RCCOLA503@aol.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: Hopeless Hope (5/6) Title: Hopeless Hope (5/6) Author: Meg R-C Distribution: Sure, but just tell me first Feedback: Pretty please with a cherry on top! Disclaimer: I own nothing. The basis for this story belongs to Anya, and the characters belong to Joss Whedon and the WB Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this Summary: A sequel to Anya's Gone. Xander is dying and his final wish is for the gang to be reunited. I found Buffy and Angel curled up together on the porch, clinging together like there was no tomorrow. I hated to interrupt them, but I knew that Buffy would never forgive me if I didn't tell her right away. After all, she had more of a right to know, to grieve, than any of us. It felt so right and good to be in Angel's arms again. It had been so long, so long since I had felt him in anything but phantom dreams. This is how it should have been. He should have been the one to be there when our daughters were born, not Xander. He should have been the one to hold and comfort me when Angela died, not Xander. I love Xander, with all my heart, he's the best friend I'll ever have, and the best person I've ever known, keeping his innocence even after all we have been through. But I love Angel with all of my soul, he is the father of my children. He should have been there. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in my ear, "I should have been there." Someone cleared their throat behind me. Involuntarily my Slayer senses kicked in, and I soon found myself pinning a startled and trembling Willow against the wall with the pointed end of my now broken chair leg pointed straight at her heart. "Sorry," I mumbled, dropping the stake and letting her go, horrified at what I had almost just done. The last thing I wanted was Xander's disappointment and the death of my best friend on my shoulders. But one look at Willow's face and I knew that the former was no longer an issue. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks tearstained, and she had an air of defeat and loss that hung in a pall above her head. Her whole demeanor screamed death. But Xander couldn't be dead, we had two more weeks. He couldn't have just died, I needed him. I loved him so much, and he didn't even say good-bye. He was just like all the others, they say they love you, that they'll always be there, but they never are. They just leave without saying good-bye, without telling you its not your fault. "Buffy?" Angel asked, reaching towards me. I flinched away from his touch, recoiling as if he had burned me. Angel and Willow, they had been the first to go. They are no better than the rest. I have no one, I am all alone. "Why are you still here?" I hissed at them. "Xander's dead, he was the reason you came back, and now he's not here anymore, and you shouldn't be here either. Just go." I was nearly hysterical, but I didn't care. I trusted Xander, and he left me. Its all my fault, I couldn't save him. He always trusted me to protect him, to save him, but I couldn't. I couldn't save the others either. They all died because of me. I've failed, I've failed everyone who ever mattered. I wasn't' there to save Willow from the Anointed One, I couldn't save Giles, or my parents, the Rosenburg's, or the Harris's, or the Chases from becoming vampires. I couldn't save Angela from Lynn. All these people died because of me, because I couldn't protect them. And now Xander. How many times had he risked and offered his life for mine? I should have worked harder for a cure, taken him to more doctor's, made him stay in the hospital instead of coming home. Maybe a cure would've been found. I failed him. The one person who had never hurt me, who would die before he caused me pain, and I failed him. I failed him and now he's dead. I saw every negative emotion ever felt in the history of man cross Buffy's face: sorrow, pain, hurt, betrayal, anger, guilt. The guilt stayed. Xander had warned me she would react badly, but I never imagine. One moment she is the Slayer, the old Buffy, fiery and full of passion, the next she is broken, and empty body filled with so much guilt and sorrow there is no longer room for a soul. I watched as she stumbled into the living room and picked up a picture of her and Xander. Looking at her face I knew that my pain, my loss, was nothing compared to hers. She crumbled to floor as if her legs no longer had the strength to hold her. "I'm so sorry Xander. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I'm so sorry I failed you." BY now her voice was so soft it was only my vampire enhanced senses that allowed me to hear her words. "Buffy," I whispered, not wanting to startle her. "I thought I told you to leave Will. Leave before I kill you to." Her voice was loud now, angry. "Why would you kill me?" Xander told me not to let her bottle it up inside, so I thought I'd try talking it out of her. After all, I had eternity. "Why not? I've killed everyone else. Giles, my parents, your parents, Cordelia, Xander. I killed my own daughter. I killed my own daughter." Buffy was sobbing, cradling Xander's picture to her breast, her voice rising closer and closer to hysteria with every word. "You didn't kill Angela, vampire did. You had nothing to do with it." I hadn't even heard Angel come in. Buffy looked up at him through watery eyes, "gave birth to her, didn't I? I brought her into this world so that it could destroy her, like it destroys every other innocent. And I did it knowing that every demon in Sunnydale would be after her. By bringing her into this world I killed her. The blame is all mine." Angel stared at her, "If, by giving birth and life to our daughter, you are to blame for her death, than so am I." Angel's voice was quiet, full of defeat. Buffy looked up startled, and shook her head vigorously in response, "Oh, no Angel, you're not to blame, you're to good. You're not a killer, I am. I'm the only one to blame not you." "It takes two to make a baby, Buffy," Angel argued gently, "by your logic I'm just as guilty as you." Buffy nodded in disagreement, "But I could have had an abortion or something, but I was selfish. I brought those babies into this world so that I wouldn't have to be alone, so I could still have a little piece of you with me. I was selfish and now she's dead. "Buffy?" "Yeah?" "Do you trust me?" Angel was brilliant. He was walking her straight into the trap of forgiveness, she had no way out. Buffy was too grief-stricken to figure out where he was going. "More than anything." Buffy was really paying attention to him. "Then listen to me, trust me, when I tell you that you are not responsible for anyone's death. The blame falls strictly on the vampires, on disease, and on dumb luck. None of it was your fault." That did it. Years of self-hatred and guilt diminished, it all flew out the window. While not wholly convinced, Buffy would never do Angel the injustice of calling him a liar. She loved him enough to let go. The Codex says Angel is the only thing that can kill her. It forgot to mention that he's that only thing that can save her as well. ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 2 Dec 1998 15:56:17 EST From: RCCOLA503@aol.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: Hopeless Hope (6/6) Title: Hopeless Hope (6/6) Author: Meg R-C Distribution: Sure, but just tell me first Feedback: Pretty please with a cherry on top! Disclaimer: I own nothing. The basis for this story belongs to Anya, and the characters belong to Joss Whedon and the WB Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this Summary: A sequel to Anya's Gone. Xander is dying and his final wish is for the gang to be reunited. It has been two months since Xander died, two months since that night that I let go of the past. While I know that I am not innocent in the deaths of my friends, I have come to realize that I am not to blame. Xander would be proud of me. I still had a lot to work out, lots of issues to deal with, but I had an eternity to come to terms with my past. That's why I am here today at Xander's grave, to let go and say good-bye. I could never bring myself to come before, always associating saying good-bye with forgetting. I've gone to all the graves, but this was the hardest. I didn't know how I'd survive without Xander's dumb jokes, constant support, and everlasting loyalty and love. But finally I know how. I will remember him, and use his memory to keep fighting. I knelt on the grave, reading the tombstone we had picked out together. Xander chose its main inscription, but I had added a few touches. 'Alexander Harris, 1981-2003, I loved, I lost, I forgave. A beloved friend he taught me love has no time limit.' "Xander, I've forgiven myself like you always wanted. I've realized that's why you sent me to find Angel and Willow, it wasn't for you, but for me. Even in the end, you saved me, you protected me. I love you. I miss you so much it hurts. But I'm moving on, like you would've wanted. I'm going to fight the new Master in Europe, and I'm taking Hope with me. Angel and Willow are coming to. "So this is good-bye, because I don't know if I could ever bear to come back to Sunnydale, its too painful. Right now duty calls me away, maybe someday it will bring me back. Until then, this is good-bye. "Every slayer needs a reason to fight. You were mine, and you still are. I'll fight for you Xander, I'll fight until there are no more demons left to pay. Because they will pay for all those times they made you cry. Someday we will have our revenge, but until then, I love you. I'm free of my hate, all I feel is love. Thank you. "Thank you for giving my back what I thought I'd lost: hope." I would never forget Xander, but for now I was moving on. Duty was calling me, eternity was waiting. ~The End ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 2 Dec 1998 17:26:21 EST From: Titanic437@aol.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: Twilight - (7/?) TITLE: Twilight AUTHOR: Shadows, and my e-mail is Titanic437@aol.com DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. The End. USING IT: Like, e-mail me so I know where it's going adn if you can. 'Cause I'm on the web 15/7 (I've timed myself - stopwatches are an insomniacs best friend), so believe me, I'll find out. WHATEVER ELSE: Feedback, darn't! If you think there should be more/less of anything, e me. If you think "Twilight" is good, e me. Ya think it sucks, e me. I won't write back an angry letter. But don't just write "it sucks." Tell me why so I can fix it! And if I get a letter that says it sucks because Xander is the main character--don't even. Twilight - Chapter 7 By Shadows "I left the me I used to be." -City, Natalie Imbruglia Xander limped into the library, an arm wrapped around his cramped stomach and dragging his left leg somewhat behind him. His hair was matted down to his scalp and dripping with sweat, much like his shirt, pants, and body. He managed his way across the library and collapsed into a chair, keeling over and putting his head down on the cool, wooden surface. One breath, two breath, three breath, four . . . "Xander, where were you?" Willow appeared out from Giles' office, and one glance at her friend sent her into major alarm-mode. "Oh my God, are you ok?!" she cried shrilly, running over to her friend. "Fine . . . just . . . fine," Xander managed to say between deep, calming breaths. His head was so dizzy that she lost balance for only a moment, but Willow reached out to support him. The soft touch of her hands on his chest sent a searing pain through him, and Xander yelped in pain. "Ouch! Willow, off, off! Sunburn!" Willow's eyes widened, and then she quickly pulled away. Xander was trying to accommodate himself in his chair when he noticed the size of the redhead's eyes. "Don't be so surprised," he said nastily, straightening his shirt. When he saw Willow's hurt expression, he softened. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm just not in the best of moods." He sighed. "I went driving, and then I walked. A very long walk. All the way here." "But you don't have a driver's license," Willow said slowly, trying to piece together what he was saying. Then she sucked in her breath. "You wrecked the car, didn't you?" she asked. "No . . . yes." Xander lifted his head off the table and instead placed it in his hands. "I was leaving the rest station, not really looking where I was going, and BAM! Right into a tree." He chewed on his lip, which looked as though they had already been through several sessions. "But I lived. And there are worse ways to die." Willow smiled weakly and him, and then glanced at the journal which was ominously discarded at the center of the table. "We found something," she said faintly. "I trust it's not good," Xander judged from the tone of her voice. "Can I see?" Willow was once again on the verge of tears as she handed Xander the floppy, ratty old journal. "Page's bookmarked," Willow said as Xander flipped through the thin, yellowed pages. She sat down next to him, waiting patiently as he read the passage. When he was finished, he gently closed the book and placed it as far away from him as he could without having to stand up. He stared at it, eyes blank as if he were looking at something in another time and place. A little moan escaped his throat. "So I guess now you know what to do," he intoned dully. Willow gave him a startled look. "Huh? What?" "Now you know what to do," Xander repeated, his voice slightly jagged. "Chain me up, find I'm a demon, slay, party, and then slay another soulless vampire the next night. And life goes on." "How can you * say * that?" Willow asked, her voice rising higher and higher. "How can you think we can do that?" "Easy," Xander said smoothly. "That's what needs to be done. And I'm sure Buffy'll be able to do it. She can't slay Dead Boy, but she'd slay me in an instant. She's sick like that." "Lovesick," Willow added softly. Xander snorted rudely, and then looked away. They heard footfalls on the steps, and Giles appeared behind them. "Xander," he said, nodding and acknowledging that he was there. "H-have you read . . .?" "Yeah," Xander answered. "And I just have one question." He twisted uncomfortably in his seat and wiped his brow. "How many days do I have left?" Giles hesitated, knowing that Xander would not like the answer. "One day," he said. "Two days if you are lucky. But the chances of that are very slim." He paused. "So sorry." "Don't be," Xander growled, anger and resentment seeping into his voice. "This is my fault. * I * drank Angel's blood: I wanted to and I enjoyed it. And Buffy's the top contender: if she'd been thinking with her head and not her * hormones *, I wouldn't be sitting here now, worrying about sprouting fangs in 24 hours. And you, Giles, would be having smoochies and who-knows-what-else with Ms. Calendar." He shifted his gaze to Willow. "And you would have your fish." The library was silent for a moment, then Xander plucked angrily at his shirt. "Dammit, is anybody else * hot * in here?" "Listen to me," Giles said, breaking the heavy curtain around the trio. "This is not your fault at * all *. You were seconds away from death, and Angel offered you life once more. No matter what free will a human being is capable of, it cannot override the ancestral urge to survive, which is forever stamped in your DNA." Xander looked at him, confused. Giles sighed, and continued. "Think of someone who has survived a suicide attempt. 99% of them say that at their point-of-death, when they are that close to passing over, they do everything possible to survive. It makes you feel somewhat sorry for the persons who do die-but that is not the point. The point is that Angel's blood was * there *, and no matter how strongly you knew it was wrong, your mind was not functioning properly, and all you knew is that you wanted to survive. And that was the only way. It was not your fault at all." Xander raised his eyebrows. "You haven't convinced me," he said sadly. Giles sighed. "Xander, you-" Xander held up his hand as the hair on the back of his neck rose. He turned to his left and to his right, and then stared at the Journal in front of him. He looked as though he was listening to something far away. "Buffy's coming," she said in an odd, detached voice. "How do you know?" Willow asked. "I have * no * idea," Xander said, still listening to whatever he was hearing. "But-she's right outside now-" Buffy entered the room, dressed in a long overcoat and high pumps. She saw Xander at the table and then demanded, "Why weren't you at your house?" Xander's eyebrows shot up. " * What * ? When do I suddenly have to report to * you * as to where * I'm * going?" Buffy's shield was a little thrown off by the furiousness that seethed in Xander's voice, but she held on to her own. "I didn't know where you had gone or what you happened to you," she replied. "I care what happens to a friend." Xander was absolutely still-no breathing, no shaking, no blinking whatsoever. Then he sucked a deep breath in. "Oh, so, Buffy, you care about a friend. You care about * all * your friends. Yeah, right, I can believe you. If you really * cared *, you would've sent Angel off to Malaysia or whatever, getting us rid of him forever. Instead, you had to do the Mattress Olympics with that * vampire * . Now your little world is crumbling around you, but you can't see past the falling walls. All you can see is Angel in that killer of an ex-boyfriend, and lemme tell you, he's a killer, all right. And he's showing you just how great a killer he can be." Buffy was hurt, but she was about tired of Xander's cruel mentions of Angel. "Leave Angel alone," Buffy said, matching the spite in her friend's tone. "And he is not after you he's after me." "We already had * that * discussion," Xander sighed, narrowing his eyes and remembering the ordeal at the cemetery. "Angel came to me again last night," Buffy said. "And he says that you were his target to hurt me, Xander. You were right. And I'm so sorry. But I'm going to make up for it, I swear. Angel's going down." Xander laughed, one so cruel and calculating that Willow had to refrain from gasping. "I hear 'going', so I say that you didn't kill the bastard last night while you two were having you're little talk. Obviously, if you couldn't do it then, you'll never do it later. And Buffy, I blame you. Blame you for everything. But go ahead and * not * kill Angel. Wait'll you see the carnage, and then you'll * know * what the hell you were doing wrong then." Buffy was smarted. This was a crueler version of an already tactless Xander, and she wasn't sure how much she could take from him/it. "I'm going through a lot, too," Buffy shot back at him. "I can't just forget all that I ever felt for him!" " * It * !" Xander practically yelled at her. "What you felt for * it * ! And now * it's * out there, probably killing tens of people around town, while you're here arguing with me about fuzzy feelings for this * monster * ." He cupped his hands around his mouth. " * Angel died the night you f-ked him! Now there's Angelus, and he is * using * him against you. Let * go * ! Don't dwell on what * was * !" The Slayer and the vampire-to-be were there, just glaring at each other, shooting daggers with their eyes. And then Xander shot up out of his chair and strode to the doors. "See you tomorrow," he growled as he left. "I'll be ready for the chains." - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - ------------------------- "Nothing like the Bronze to cheer me up." Xander Harris stood outside the Bronze, hiding in the shadows cast in the alleys. He watched teen after teen enter the Bronze and pal around with the new bouncer, a meek little man who didn't really do what his job entitled. * That used to be me * Xander thought. Then Xander gave himself a mental slap in the face and told the thinking idiot that it was * still * him. He had one day left as a mortal, and since he didn't want to see anybody but a quarantined Cordelia, the only things left to keep him busy were brooding or going to the Bronze. And he sure as hell wasn't going to turn into Angel in five seconds flat. Give it five days. Xander fell in step behind a pair of necking lovebirds, and waited as they convinced the guy to let them on in free of charge. The bouncer, after trying to talk them out of convincing him, gave up and stamped their hands before they were allowed to enter. Then Xander stepped up, rooting around in his pant pockets for cash. "Uh, that's ok, sir," said the bouncer quickly. Xander looked up to give the man a confused look. "You go on in right ahead." He motioned for Xander to enter, and without putting up much of a fight, Xander shrugged and headed on in. If he was lucky, he could also get a free beer or two at the bar. He walked onto the dance floor, which was thick and pulsating with couples dancing to the rhythm of the CD songs they were playing on-stage. No live entertainment tonight. Xander tried to squeeze through the dancing persons when he felt someone grab his shoulder. "Hey," said a voice behind him, and Xander turned around to see a kid about his age grinning widely and nodding towards two girls standing on a dark corner of the far wall. "Twins. Wanna share?" "Uh, no thanks." The kid shrugged and then brushed of his jacket, saying "It's cool" and walking over to the girls. Xander gave him a strange look, and then decided that he needed a drink really fast. He headed over to the bar, ready to order a Coke and a sandwich or something. He sat up on one of the stools and waited till a pretty blond in something red and velvety that pushed beyond the limits of a miniskirt came in front of him. "So, what do you want?" she asked, totally somewhere else and smacking her gum loudly. She looked at Xander with a bored expression on her pretty face. "Um, Coke and a sandwich," Xander muttered. The girl raised her eyebrows. "Sure you don't wanna beer?" she asked. Now it was Xander's turned to be confused yet again. "How old do I look?" he asked, wondering what the hell was going on tonight. "27, jeez, that's what mirrors are for. Do you own one?" The girl set about to pouring him a mug of frosty beer, with the froth foaming over the top of the can, running into a sticky puddle already on the counter. She grabbed a wrapped sandwich from a pile in a basket and slammed it down before him. "Anything else?" "No," Xander said, tossing a few dollar bills on the counter. Velvet Blond scooped them up and stuffed them into her apron. She grabbed a plastic cup from the stack next to the soda machine and began to fill it with Sprite, humming some tune from a movie. Xander had slid off the counter and turned away when he heard Velvet Blond scream out in pain. He turned back to see the cup of Sprite tossed away on the counter, and Velvet Blond holding her left hand with her right. The left hand was sliced down the middle, and blood was trickling out from the thin, perfect cut. Xander stood there, frozen to the spot, and other girls in the bar rushed to help her. All he could hear, suddenly, was the heartbeat of the Velvet Blond that thrummed loudly in his ears. He suddenly felt a hunger he had never experienced before, and he licked his lips at the faintest sight of the blood. He wanted to lick it off her hand; he wanted to bite down hard and draw more blood. He wanted to eat. Something growled, and at first Xander feared that it was him, but it was instead his stomach. The room had gone kaleidoscope on him, and all he could smell, hear, and see was the blood. And then he ran. Xander just dropped all his food, and as the beer mug crashed to the floor, he was already out of the Club The next thing Xander knew he was lying in a pile of overturned trashcans, hands clamped tightly over his mouth and slowly counting to ten. By the time he reached ten, he had calmed significantly down. The lust was gone, and he barely remembered what had happened in there. It was ok . . . and then the image of the girl's hands dripping with the sweet blood filled his mind, and the strangest thing happened. At first, it felt as though someone were pricking his face with needles. Then it felt as though his skin had taken on a mind of his own, and so rapidly he hardly felt it, it just * moved * across his face with it's own accord. Suddenly the alleyway around him twisted into a square and then stood upright again, although this time he could see everything from the tiniest speck of dirt on the wall several feet away to the large "Say No To Drugs" sign hanging on the same structure. His mouth felt like suddenly he had sprouted a million more teeth, and his cheekbones must have risen an inch or so. Although this happened in mere seconds, Xander realized what had happened. He had no mirror to look into to justify his guess, but he would bet his remaining hours of living that he had his game face on. End of Chapter 7. And I know it's really seven. ------------------------------ End of buffyfic-digest V2 #385 ****************************** To subscribe to buffyfic or buffyfic-digest, send the command subscribe buffyfic-digest or subscribe buffy to majordomo@xmission.com. You will need to go through a confirmation process, and the listowners have to manually approve your subscription request, so it may take some time. To unsubscribe, send email to majordomo@xmission.com with unsubscribe buffyfic-digest or unsubscribe buffyfic in the body. Back issues of this digest can be found at: ftp://ftp.xmission.com/pub/lists/buffyfic/archive/ Dalton Spence has also provided an index of the buffyfic archive at: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/BUFFYFIC.HTM For help, contact Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) or sah (romana@mindspring.com)